“Except what you can’t do, and that is to grow up,” was on the tip of Zoe’s tongue, but she crushed it down nobly. “I am very sorry,” she said, with finality, “but it’s quite impossible. I have never given you any reason——”
“I know you haven’t.” His eagerness to justify her brought the tears to Zoe’s eyes. “It was all my fault. Only it seemed, you know, as if—— But I was a fool. You’ll let things be as they were before, won’t you, when I come back? Then I’ll go off with Wylie, and knock about a bit——”
“Colonel Wylie? Is he going too? What is it for?”
“Well, we aren’t exactly supposed—I oughtn’t to have——”
“You must tell me now. Where are you going?”
“I am to take Wylie round in the yacht to a place called Skandalo, from which you can get to Hagiamavra, where these Emathian fellows are establishing an insurgent stronghold. He goes as your brother’s representative, to see what can be done, and what chance there is of success. If there’s none, he might be able to get them to disband before the Roumis have time to move troops to attack them, but they seem pretty confident. Panagiotis had a message yesterday evening to say that they were ready, so we’re off to-night.”
“But is there danger?” gasped Zoe.
“Ought to be none. I wish there was any chance of it.”
“But after his fever. There is sure to be exposure——”
“Oh, for Wylie, you mean. It is still Wylie, then?”